


Backwards Compatibility

by MonkeysInPants



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Double Penetration, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory, Semi-Public Sex, Threesome - F/M/M, Voyeurism, Wall Sex, fun with Exo anatomy, generic sex orifice, light play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-03 16:09:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13344744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonkeysInPants/pseuds/MonkeysInPants
Summary: A repository for Cayde/Zavala sex scenes. That's all folks.





	1. No Fuss, No Muss

“Okay, so, full disclosure? You kind of caught me with my cock off.”

 

If Cayde's grip on his wrist hadn't already stopped Zavala's hand in its quest to get inside the Hunter’s pants, that admission would have stilled him just as effectively. As it is, it takes a moment for him to turn the words over in his head before he looks up at Cayde, brows pressed together in confusion. “I- what?”

 

The blue lights of Cayde's pupils dart away, avoiding Zavala's thoroughly perplexed look. “Yeah, this whole ‘I'm free, you're free, let's bang’ opportunity was a big--though very, very welcome!--surprise, and I didn’t exactly get up in the morning thinking ‘Hey, let's break out the good dong on the slim chance I get to fuck Zavala today!’-”

 

“Cayde,” Zavala says, attempting to stem the flow of words. 

 

“-And even with this cushy Tower gig, going around every day with a piece of irreplaceable Golden Age tech dangling between your legs is just asking for trouble. These things are rare, you know? Do you have any idea how many favours I had to cash in just to get my hands on one-”

 

“ _Cayde,_ ” he says more firmly. No one can ramble on quite like someone who doesn't need to breathe to speak.

 

“-And that's nothing compared to the, y’know, _holes_. People horde those things like exotic gear. I mean, I could _get one_ , if you really wanted, just give me a few days-” 

 

The words finally cut off with a pop of static followed by a breathy moan as Zavala takes advantage of Cayde's distraction to slip his hand free of the Exo's grasp and give the front of his pants a firm squeeze. There's certainly _something_ beneath Zavala's palm. He'd felt it swelling to life against his own hardening length as they'd rocked against each other, his weight pinning Cayde to the wall. 

 

“Uh,” is all Cayde says at first, flickering eyes fixing intently on Zavala's face. After a few wordless clicks from his speaker, he finally manages, “Okay, you've got my attention.”

 

“Cayde,” Zavala begins, the seriousness in his voice making Cayde bob his chin in the tiniest nod of acknowledgment. “Do you still want to do this?” He rakes his heated gaze over Cayde's body from head to toe--armor half-off, cape on, hood back, _gorgeous_ \--before returning to meet blazing blue lights, making it clear exactly what he means by ‘this’. 

 

“Of course I do!” Cayde's tone is incredulous, like he can't believe Zavala even needs to ask. His hands rise up to rest on the Titan’s unarmoured shoulders. “I am absolutely here for this. For you. For doing this with you.”

 

“Good,” Zavala says, the tension bleeding from his voice. “And you're still… equipped to enjoy yourself?”

 

“Oh, yeah, no, pleasure is definitely _not_ a problem,” Cayde answers, pointedly rolling his hips against Zavala's hand. His fingers clench in the the body suit beneath them as Zavala grinds his palm in counter to the thrust. With each firm press, Cayde arches a little further, until his head bumps against the wall, tilted back to bare the enticing length of his throat. “Noooo problem at all.”

 

Giving in to temptation, Zavala leans in to press warm lips against Cayde's neck, the soft kiss only a prelude to blue lips parting to scrape his teeth across Exo's throat. The resulting high moan is exactly what he was wanted, and it sends a bolt of heat through him, his unattended cock throbbing. But that can wait. Zavala had long ago discovered that bringing his partners pleasure satisfied almost as much as his own release. 

 

He pulls away from Cayde's neck just enough to murmur against his jaw, his palm keeping up a steady rhythm of pressure while the other hand settles at the small of Cayde's back. “Then as long as you're enjoying this, I don't care what you're packing in here.”

 

“Right. Good. Excellent. That's- uh. Um. Oh.” Cayde gives up on speaking the moment Zavala runs his tongue across his throat. His own gloved hands begin a restless journey, one wandering down the Titan’s well-muscled chest, across his side, idly trying to count ribs through the thick fabric of his body suit. The other ventures up, dancing over his collarbone, following the line of a tendon up his neck, pausing briefly to stroke his thumb over a blue cheekbones before curving around to smooth over the back of Zavala's head. Both hands paint warm trails of Light on Zavala's skin and leave prickles of pleasure in their wake.

 

So occupied, Cayde has no hands to stop Zavala when he finally returns to the task of undoing his pants. His belts at least have already been dealt with, and Zavala is pleased--and unsurprised--to find no additional layer of underwear to bypass. What does surprise him is the silky smooth and almost flesh-like texture that meets his probing fingertips. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting instead. Perhaps metal, or something more rubbery, like the material lining Cayde's soft palate.

 

As his curious fingers go exploring, small tremors begin shaking through Cayde's body. The Exo grips him tighter, sounds of pleasure escaping his speaker in short bursts. Zavala traces up the curve of the swelling in Cayde's pants until it meets hard metal. From there he maps the edges of it with questing fingertips. He can liken the shape of it to an athletic cup, a round rise that starts where he'd find a human's pubic bone and ends in the perineal region deep between his thighs. With a careful squeeze that has Cayde squirming, he tests its firmness. Not hard, but just soft enough to let his fingers press in with some resistance. A variety of silicone, perhaps. Mostly smooth, but with several lateral ridges texturing the upper third. He enjoys the sensation of dragging his thumb over the bumps, though clearly not as much as Cayde, his wanton moans like music to Zavala's ears.

 

“It's a bulge,” Cayde mumbles against Zavala's cheek between pleasured sighs. His is voice husky with arousal and static. “Bump. Mons. Mound. Love pillow. Lots of names.”

 

Zavala gives a noncommittal hum, much more interested in a hands-on demonstration of Cayde's equipment than a lecture. The lack of response doesn't stop Cayde from talking, though, and Zavala wonders if the spill of words is more for Cayde's benefit than his own. A distraction from the rising pleasure in his body. Trying to last longer. 

 

Zavala is having none of that.

 

“Standard-” A hitch. “Standard Exo equipment. Unisex. Mass-produced. But hell if it doesn't do as good a job as the real thing. Better in some ways. No mess, no stress. Great for a quick grind in a dark cornaa _aAAH!_ ”

 

Tired of getting words when he wants moans, Zavala--quite literally--took matters into his own hands, letting Light pool in his fingers before giving Cayde's bulge a firm squeeze. The result is--metaphorically--explosive.

 

Voice rising in a keen that gives way to static, Cayde clutches Zavala like a lifeline as his whole body spasms. He blazes with Light, intense enough to make Zavala gasp as it washes over him, though the sound is lost under Cayde's noises. The Exo remains suspended for a moment, back arched and tense, hips jerking against Zavala's hand. Then he goes completely loose. Given the way his legs are shaking, Zavala suspects the only thing keeping Cayde upright is his weakening grip on his shoulders. The Titan is quick to wrap supportive arms around his limp lover. 

 

“Did you just-?” he asks. 

 

Leaning heavily against Zavala, Cayde gives a few half-hearted buzzes of static that transform into a weak chuckle after several clicks from his resetting vocal systems. He claps a shaky hand on Zavala's shoulder. “Uh, yeah. Yep. Wow. You- you caught me off guard there. Good job.” 

 

Slowly steadying, the Hunter finds his feet and moves his hand up to pat Zavala's cheek. “But don't worry your pretty blue head, I've got more where that came from.”

 

“Good,” Zavala says, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Instead he leans in to press his lips against the hard plates of Cayde's mouth, carefully slipping his tongue in to swipe across his hard palate before pulling back. He's pleased when Cayde leans in after him, blue eyes dim. “Because I'm not done yet.”

 

In one smooth motion he crouches down, plants a shoulder against Cayde's waist, and hoists the other man's not inconsiderable weight over his shoulder. The Exo only flails a little before settling down with a huff of laughter.

 

“You really know how to get a guy's fans humming,” Cayde says, briefly enjoying the sight of Zavala’s taut rear sans Titan mark before he's slung unceremoniously onto the bed.

 

“You're welcome,” Zavala says, a ghost of a smile on his lips. That draws another laugh from Cayde, this one fading quickly as the Awoken begins to strip out of his body suit. Cayde's gaze is sharp as inch after inch of pale blue skin is revealed, intense enough to almost be felt as physical caress. Doing his best to keep his composure under such scrutiny, he nods pointedly at Cayde's own clothing, the Hunter still woefully overdressed.

 

Taking the hint, Cayde makes short work of the rest of his belts and armor. The chaps go next, then his cape, the the former shoved carelessly to the floor, the latter hastily folded and set on the bedside table. Stripped only to his shirt, pants, and gloves, he stares expectantly at Zavala. The Titan raises a brow when the Hunter shows no sign of divesting of further clothing. The look goes unnoticed, Cayde’s eyes having drifted down to focus hungrily on his cock. The attention is as distracting as it is flattering, but Zavala is determined to get just as much of an eyeful of Cayde.

 

Crawling onto the bed, he cages Cayde's hips between bare knees. Almost instantly, the Exo's hand is on his length, strong metal fingers still wrapped in buttery soft leather that Zavala must admit feels _amazing_. His mind goes blank, lost to the firm stroke of Light-warmed fingers. He remains poised, knees planted on the mattress, one hand fisting in the sheets, the other pressed to the center of Cayde's chest. His eyes flutter shut, lips parting in a soft moan. It's incredibly tempting to just let Cayde take charge, to give in and let the other man bring him to completion. But Zavala has a mission to complete, and the Vanguard Commander is nothing if not determined.

 

Sucking in a deep, shuddering breath to steady himself, Zavala shifts his weight fully onto his knees, freeing his hands to catch one of Cayde's--the one not currently busy between his thighs. Cayde's strokes slow and his head tilts in curiosity as he watches Zavala spread his hand flat, blue thumbs smoothing across his palm until all his fingers are splayed wide. Then, carefully pinching each fingertip in turn, Zavala peels the glove away.

 

The light in Cayde's mouth flickers a few times before he actually speaks. “Word of caution, it'll probably more comfortable to leave it on. For you, I mean. I'm fine. I'm also not exactly… soft.”

 

“I could accuse you of many things, Cayde,” Zavala says, a hint of humour in his voice, “but being soft has never been one of them.”

 

The back of Cayde's hand is mostly metal, save for a firm but flexible material between joints. The same material covers most of his palm, Zavala finds when he turns the hand over. It's slightly rough against his fingertips; some sort of mesh. Where his own palm is fleshy, Cayde's has softer pads over the mesh, slightly rubbery and lightly textured. The same pads decorate the tip of each finger, no doubt better at gripping than bare metal or the unidentified mesh. 

 

“I want to see you,” Zavala adds, as he leans in to place a kiss in the center of Cayde's naked palm. “I want to feel you.”

 

Cayde stills completely, and Zavala glances up to find the Hunter watching him with eyes blown wide. When their gazes meet, Cayde simulates a rather convincing cough, and says, “That's, um. That's a sound argument.” The way he flips his hand in a vague ‘continue’ motion is casual, but there's a tremor to his voice. “Carry on then!”

 

Zavala smiles against Cayde's palm and gives it a second parting kiss before releasing the hand go to collect the other. Soon a second glove joins the first, piled on the bedspread. Then it's time to solve the puzzle of Cayde's shirt, freely exploring the leather-clad expanse of the Exo's chest with greedy fingers. Bared metal hands catch his and guide them to the right locations. 

 

“Here, there's a hook… And a zipper… You got it.”

 

Triumphant, Zavala unwraps his prize, baring a complex landscape of blue and white metal connected by strips of dark mesh, all laid out in imitation of human musculature. He runs an appreciative hand over Cayde's sculpted belly, fingers pausing occasionally to trace the edges of a hard panel. The Exo sighs and arches into his touch.

 

“Gorgeous,” Zavala says softly, both hands dragging over Cayde's ‘ribs’ and up his arms, coaxing them over his lover's head. 

 

“Those Golden Age mechanics really knew their stuff,” Cayde says, his lip plates set wryly. 

 

Trailing his hands along the full length of Cayde's arms, Zavala laces his callused fingers between the Exo's metal ones. “ _You're_ gorgeous,” he states, and the kiss he presses against Cayde's hard lips is as adamant as his tone.

 

Reluctantly, he untangles one of his hands to slip it between their bodies and tug at the Hunter's last piece of clothing. There's not much he can do without sitting up and he's unwilling to give up his lock on Cayde's lips. Instead he tilts his head to deepen the kiss and settles for tugging the pants down just far enough that when he settles his weight over the Exo his length presses fully against the silky swell of Cayde's bulge. The Vanguard pair groan in unison at the contact, Zavala's voice husky and Cayde's heavy with static, both muffled by the other’s mouth. 

 

Zavala breaks the kiss to take a moment to pant, his hot breath briefly painting moisture across the cooler metal of Cayde's face. Then his lips are back against the Exo’s and he gives a tentative roll of his hips. The silicone gives slightly beneath him. The head of his cock rubs across the ridges. _Oh_. 

 

“Hey Big Blue,” Cayde says, voice sounding odd as it filters through the gaps in his cheeks, his mouth otherwise occupied. “Before you really get going, you might want a dab a bit of this.”

 

Something taps against Zavala's cheek and he's forced to break their kiss again to take a look. Cayde's hand has apparently been busy without Zavala's to keep it occupied, because pinched between thumb and forefinger is a small tube of clear liquid. His brow furrows, raking his gaze over the almost naked Exo. “Where did you-?”

 

He cuts off both himself and any response Cayde might have with a shake of his head. The Hunter would either smugly evade the question or break into some long-winded explanation, and Zavala doesn't have the patience for either. Instead, he plucks the vial from Cayde's fingers and gives it an appraising look. “Oil?”

 

“Good stuff,” Cayde says with a small nod. “A few drops get you pumping smooth as a greased piston.” He glances down pointedly. “I’d’ve done it already, but getting the cap off one-handed is a great way to mess up your sheets.”

 

Zavala wonders if Cayde is speaking from experience--scratch that, he's certain Cayde's speaking from experience. He's also certain that he doesn't care to hear that particular anecdote, so he doesn't ask. Humming in acknowledgement instead, he surrenders his grip on Cayde's hand to give the cap a twist. No sooner is the cap off then the vial is no longer in his grasp. He blinks owlishly at his empty hand then frowns at Cayde, the Exo's eyes wide and innocent as he rubs oil over both his palms. Zavala is reminded of just how unsettling Hunters can be.

 

“Why the long face?” Cayde says, capping the tube before making it vanish with a sleight of hand. “You're looking a little blue.”

 

If Zavala were any less aroused he would have gotten up and left. Instead his frown deepens into a glare that has Cayde laughing. The Titan gives an impatient thrust of his hips, reminding the Hunter that they have more pressing matters than making bad jokes.

 

“Alright, alright, I'm working!” The expression that slips onto Cayde's face is decidedly _not_ innocent, nor is the way he traces a slow, glistening line down his own chest, over his sculpted belly, lower… 

 

Zavala swallows heavily. An image forms in his head of Cayde splayed out and stroking himself, slick hand fondling the swell between his thighs, his head tilted back in ecstasy, sweet sounds falling from his open lips-- The sound of his own moan drags him out of the fantasy as Cayde's slick fingers curl around his throbbing length instead. The feeling of the Exo’s bare hand is nothing like his glove, the varying textures and temperatures of metal, mesh, and silicone a maddening mix as Cayde strokes him. And then he brings out his Light. 

 

Blood rushes in Zavala's ears as he tosses his head back, and he feels the shout tear its way from his throat more than he hears it. Cayde's Light spreads from where he touches his cock, a warmth like summer sunlight overtaking his body, only it doesn't warm just his skin, it's _inside_ him, heating places deep within him that no hand could ever touch. The Arc Light that swells from Zavala's core to meet the sweet burn is cooler, but just as fierce, and he can feel it dancing between them like sparks.

 

Zavala only realizes he's closed his eyes when they flutter open again and he sees Cayde's face. The expression colouring the Exo's features is unlike any he's seen from the man, and he’s unsure how to read it. Something soft and open and almost awed, and even more than that- His eyelids slide shut again, unwilling to dissect the emotions blazing in Cayde's gaze further. Not now. He focuses instead on the way Cayde's hand flattens over his length, trapping it between slick palm and plush silicone. A firm hand on his ass is all the encouragement Zavala needs to start thrusting, hands clenching in the sheets to either side of his lover's head. He's quick to lose himself in the rhythm of their bodies and the swell of Light against Light. 

 

He's only dimly aware of it when Cayde suddenly arches beneath him, crying out, clutching him tighter. The supernova of Light that follows is impossible not to notice, blazing with an intensity that sets his own Light aflame. It feels like he's being burned alive, only the tongues of fire lick him with pleasure rather than pain. It's the sweetest immolation imaginable and it scorches him to the core. Then, as Cayde's Light begins to retreat, his own surges up and out, and with lightning snapping beneath his skin and thunder in his blood, Zavala comes apart.

 

Awareness comes back to him piece by piece: sweet air filling his lungs as he gasps for breath; the heavy thud of his pulse only now beginning to slow; aftershocks of pleasure making his skin buzz; a hand familiar hand stroking the back of his head. A voice.

 

“You still with me Big Blue?”

 

Zavala grunts in answer. He's hunched over Cayde, knees and forearms pressed hard into the mattress, his forehead resting against Cayde's chest. And the Hunter is… petting him. 

 

“I'll take that as a yes,” Cayde says. “Which is a good thing because I really didn't want to explain to Ikora that we need a new commander because I had literally mind blowing sex with the current one.”

 

The response to that one is a tired huff, and a lightly trembling blue palm covering Cayde's mouth. Hopefully the Hunter gets the point, regardless of his ability to speak despite the hand across laid across his lips. Zavala needs a few minutes before he can deal with Cayde being Cayde. 

 

Heaving a loud sigh, Zavala settles himself against Cayde's chest, giving his arms a rest and letting him stretch his legs alongside his lover's. The Exo isn't the most comfortable of pillows, but Zavala has slept in worse places and he'll save rolling to the side for when his limbs no longer feel like jelly. The slick of oil and come between them is unfortunate, but he'll deal with that later.

 

“Oof, you Titans are so heavy. I can't breath.”

 

For a brief moment, Zavala is actually worried. Then, “Cayde, I will leave.”

 

“Hey, I'm not keeping you here, so feel free,” Cayde says, hands roaming idly across Zavala's back, still slippery with oil. “Go ahead, stand up.”

 

Zavala doesn't even justify that with a response, irritated at Cayde calling his bluff. Though he really _would_ have walked out if he felt he could do so without stumbling about like a drunkard. He definitely would have left. Almost certainly.

 

After a moment, he does speak: “That was… more intense than before.”

 

“Oh, yeah. I may have gone a little bit overboard.”

 

“A little,” Zavala says flatly.

 

“Okay, maybe a lot.” Zavala feels Cayde shrug. “I maybe got kind of overexcited. But can you blame a man for getting all worked up when he's got a lap full of this?”

 

The question is punctuated by the Hunter clapping both hands down on Zavala's rear and giving each cheek a firm squeeze. The Titan tries to growl, but somehow it comes out sounding much more like a moan.

 

“I'll go easier on the Light next time?” Cayde says, and it takes a moment for Zavala to recognize the question beneath the assurance. 

 

“... Next time,” Zavala confirms, perhaps, he thinks, against his better judgement. And perhaps he feels a slight tension ease out of the body beneath him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired heavily by [Two Kinds of Steel](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5710174/chapters/13154803) by [occasional_boy_reporter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/occasional_boy_reporter/pseuds/occasional_boy_reporter). Which you should all go read because it is amazing on every level.
> 
> Fun Headcanon Fact: Golden Age Exo genital mods change hands regularly among the Tower's Exo residents, through trades, favours, transactions, bets, and straight up begging your friends. Exos generally try to keep this on the down low, though, because for some reason non-Exos can get squeamish knowing the bits they're banging have had like, twenty different owners. (This is not, in fact, unhygienic, as removable genital mods are extremely easy to sterilize.)


	2. Speechless

“Zavuh- z-zah- vuh! Uh!”

 

A smirk curls Zavala's lips, the smug expression hidden against the hood of Cayde's cloak. It's not like the Hunter to have such trouble finding his words and satisfaction curls in his belly at being the one to put Cayde in such a state. 

 

“I'm sorry,” he says, nuzzling the dark fabric that covers Cayde's head. This close to him he can hear the hum of fans labouring somewhere inside the Exo's body. “I didn't quite catch that.”

 

“Guh!” Cayde retorts eloquently and almost squirms off Zavala's lap. Only the heavily armoured arm encircling his chest keeps him from tumbling to the floor, his back held snugly against the Titan’s chest. “Sss- _hh!_ Tease!”

 

“What was that, Cayde?” Zavala says, each word calm and deliberate. “More teasing?”

 

Cayde stutters out a string of static-laced curses, but the stream of profanity gives way to a high whine with the slightest shift of Zavala's hand. 

 

Thick fingertips touch the top of Cayde's bulge, at the seam between silicone and metal. It's the part with the least give and consequently, Zavala has found, the least sensitivity. An important observation when the Exo's body seems to grow more responsive with each successive orgasm. The steady pinpricks of Light he keeps in the pad of each finger are also the result of several rounds of trial and error: just enough Light to make Cayde shudder, but not enough to put him over the edge. Not yet. 

 

This encounter has been a fantastic opportunity for experimentation. 

 

Cayde's hips surge up, desperate for more than a hint of contact and Zavala's hand retreats, sliding over the Exo's plated belly before pressing down to pin him flush against him once more. Even through his thick armour he can feel the blaze of Cayde's Light. Zavala pauses that way, giving his lover a chance to catch his breath--so to speak--and when he moves again his fingers don't return to swell between Cayde's thighs. 

 

“How many has it been?” Zavala murmurs against the side of Cayde's head, tracing a single finger through the maze of mesh that fills the space between the Exo's abdominal plates. He pays careful attention to the flex of the metal panels as Cayde squirms, having learned quickly to watch where he puts his fingers after suffering a painful pinch. Cayde had still been cognizant enough then to mock his error. Now, he can barely get his smart mouth around a single number. 

 

“Uh, mmn, e-eight? N-nh, no, nine. Nine.”

 

Zavala gives a satisfied hum, the number matching his estimate. He's getting better at picking out Cayde's climaxes from the background of his pleasure. It's in the way his voice hitches, the particular tension in his frame, the unique flare of his Light. Scratching a nail along the valley that runs up the center of Cayde's abdomen, he asks, “Would you like to stop?”

 

“G-gh-guh-” He pauses, his speaker emitting a series of pops. Zavala waits patiently until he finds his words. “G-getting, _nh_ , tired?”

 

It's barely a taunt. Zavala is making progress. The amusement is thick in his voice when he answers, “I can do this all day.”

 

A crackle of static. “Mmm-m-me too, Big Blue.”

 

“Of course you can.” With that, Zavala's hand slips down to cup Cayde's bulge and gives a warm pulse of Light.

 

The result is immediate. Cayde's arches sharply, pressing hard against the arm holding him steady. His mouth gapes wide, yellow light flickering wildly within, speaker spitting only static until his scream cuts in with a loud pop. Desperate hands clench tight on the Titan’s armour, hard enough that something creaks, and Zavala finds himself thankful for its protection. He doesn't want to know what that iron grip would do to unprotected flesh.

 

Finally, Cayde relaxes again, melting bonelessly against the Titan’s breastplate. His fans buzz even louder. 

 

Zavala raises his count to ten.

 

\---

 

The pair of them would make quite the sight if someone walked in on them. Zavala in full Titan regalia, reclined back in his chair to make room for the man on his lap, his pale blue eyes blazing with intense focus. And _Cayde_ … Long legs splayed obscenely wide, the heel of one boot propped against the edge of the Vanguard Commander’s desk, his other foot hooked behind Zavala's calf. His armour in disarray, his shirt hiked up to his chest, his fly gaping invitingly. Head tilted back to rest on the Titan’s shoulder, mouth open and flickering with wanton moans. A scandalous display. 

 

But interruptions are unlikely. An unwanted guest would have to slip past Zavala's Ghost unnoticed, break through the lock on his door, and have the gall to stroll into the Vanguard Commander’s office uninvited. All while it would be far simpler to just call. 

 

Even so, his office is still more public than Zavala would choose for an intimate encounter. Unfortunately for him, the current Hunter Vanguard had no such reservations, and an uncanny ability to drag Zavala into his lewd ploys. 

 

This particular tryst had begun with Cayde strolling into his office uninvited and breaking into an torrent of anecdotes about his day. Zavala tried to ignore him, he really did, but Cayde had one of those voices. The sort he had a great deal of trouble drowning out and insisted on shattering his concentration into millions of tiny irritating shards. 

 

“-and I said ‘there's stylish long and then there's _too_ long’ but I think she took it as a challenge? Which is why we might need to draft a regulation for maximum cape length before someone gets sucked into-”

 

“ _Cayde_ ,” Zavala said, rubbing his temples after failing to read the same line of a report for the third time in a row. “I am working. I don't have the time to-”

 

“Ah-ah-ah!” Slinging an arm across his commander’s shoulders, Cayde leaned in and pressed a finger to his lips. “Both of us know you're way ahead on your paperwork and that nothing on this desk right now is in any way urgent.”

 

Zavala slapped the hand away and shrugged off the arm as his expression sank into a deep frown. “Fine. I don't have the _patience_ to listen to you right now.”

 

Cayde was instantly back in his personal space, close enough for metal lips to brush his ear. “So shut me up.”

 

Taken off guard, Zavala pushed back from the sudden proximity, even as the Hunter’s husky tone sent a shiver down his spine. The motion left a space between the Commander and his desk, and the narrow gap was immediately filled by Cayde, the Hunter leaning casually back against the table. Something about his pose--a slight arch of the back, the way his legs parted--led Zavala's gaze down the length of his body to fixate on the slight bulge in pants. 

 

Cayde spread his legs wider. Voice dropping low, he added, “I dare you.”

 

The taunt was too obvious. The Hunter wasn't even trying to hide his blatant manipulation. And yet… And yet Zavala still fell for it, hook, line, and sinker. With a growl, he grabbed Cayde the collar and dragged him down into a heated kiss. 

 

\---

 

Zavala has lost count. Cayde seems to have lost the ability to count. But that doesn't mean the Hunter is silent, and he cries out as Zavala adjusts the trembling legs hooked over his shoulders and presses his tongue harder against the Exo's mons. 

 

He's far rougher than he'd be with a flesh-and-bone lover, and he rakes his teeth over the smooth silicone, fingers pinching at the base of the bulge. There was no ‘too hard’ for the Cayde, Zavala had discovered, only ‘more pleasure’. He'd pressed a thumb into the soft swell, curious how far he could push before Cayde told him to stop. But the Exo had only moaned harder the deeper he pushed, and when--with some effort--he bottomed out, the Exo came immediately. 

 

So Zavala is rough. He's harsh. He bites, and pinches, and grinds his palm down, and time after time Cayde comes apart beneath him.

 

His desk is a mess from Cayde's flailing, but Zavala is the one who’d heaved his lover onto it, pushing him onto his back and pinning him down with a firm hand on his stomach. Zavala will deal with it later. For now his only focus is Cayde and all the pleasure he can wring from him. Even the throbbing inside his codpiece is ignored in the pursuit of rendering the Hunter speechless.

 

Cayde's climaxes come faster each time, but also weaker. The orgasmic sounds he makes fade into a fuzz of white noise. He shivers and shudders, hands twitching but no longer grasping. His Light tugs at Zavala's, soft and warm and not at all like the inferno it was before.

 

Cayde whines, the sound more a squeal of static than a human noise, and Zavala rubs a soothing hand over his belly, no longer needing to hold the flagging Exo in place. With a parting lick that runs from the base of Cayde's mons to the ridges lining the top, Zavala rises and leans over his spent lover. 

 

Blue eyes briefly brighten from a dull glow, apertures dilating and constricting as Cayde attempts to focus on Zavala's face. He gives up and lets them dim again, sagging against the desktop.

 

“Cayde,” Zavala says, stroking the Exo's face with gentle fingers. “Do you want me to stop?”

 

He watches the light in Cayde's mouth flicker, accompanied only by quiet buzzes of static. Finally the lightshow cuts out and the Exo releases a sigh like hissing steam. It's the answer Zavala has been waiting for. Leaning down, he presses a soft kiss to Cayde's chin. “Good.”

 

He starts by putting Cayde's clothing back in order, tugging his shirt into place, fastening his pants, buckling loose belts. When he's finished, the Hunter is almost presentable, if weren't for his blissed out expression and the fact that he's Cayde. 

 

Tugging the limp man into a sitting position is awkward, but from there it's easy for Zavala to gather him up and settle him in his chair. Once he's certain that Cayde won't immediately fall out of it, he moves on to reorganizing his desk. The room is quiet enough to hear the whirr of the Exo’s fans working to cool his heated frame. 

 

Cayde makes no other sound as Zavala cleans, but after long, blessedly silent minutes he reaches out to tap the Titan’s elbow with Light-warm fingers. Turning, Zavala finds Cayde's eyes lit and watching him. They dart down to his codpiece then fix again on his face while the Hunter's fingers give a tired pulse of Light. The wordless offer pulls a soft laugh from Zavala. Being hard in armour isn't exactly comfortable, but his erection is already subsiding, and he’d rather not spend the evening swabbing out his codpiece. Leaning down, he touches his lips to Cayde's temple. “Later.”

 

Seemingly satisfied with that, the Hunter curls up tighter in Zavala's chair and lapses into stillness. The Titan’s lips quirk in a smile. It's a rare event to see Cayde neither talking nor moving.

 

The silence breaks when Zavala returns to the Hunter after finishing his tidying. It comes in the form of a protesting groan when the Titan picks him up, but the complaints fade once Zavala settles into the chair with Cayde cradled on his lap. The Exo immediately shoves his face into Zavala's neck and mumbles something too soft to hear. 

 

He'll need to kick Cayde off his lap when it comes time to finish his work, but for now Zavala only needs one free hand to scroll through reports.

 

\---

 

The sun has begun to set when Ikora seeks out Zavala. She encounters his Ghost in the hallway, his office door firmly shut, clear signs of a desire for privacy. Raising a brow, she addresses the Ghost: “Tell Zavala I wish to speak with him.”

 

The Ghost bobs in a nod before disappearing through the solid wall. A moment later the door slides open and Ikora doesn't hesitate to enter. 

 

“Zavala, I'd like to discuss-” There's a pause as she registers the scene in the office. The stall only lasts long enough for Zavala to glance up before she finishes smoothly, “-these reports from Io. Do you have time?”

 

“I do,” Zavala says, gesturing welcomingly at the chairs he keeps for such visits. “Pull up a seat and we'll talk.”

 

And they do, and the exchange is entirely professional. Save for the slight smile that twitches at the corner of Ikora’s lips… And the sleeping Hunter Vanguard wedged between Zavala and the back of his chair, head resting against the Titan’s neck and limbs draped loosely around him.

 

No wonder the Tower had seemed quieter than usual today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Headcanon Fact: I basically envision the Exo mons essentially working like a resistive touch screen. You have multiple layers of these flexible conductive surfaces that when pushed together register as pressure/pleasure. The more of them that get touched together, the more pressure/pleasure is felt (though some find strong pressure to be too much and prefer gentler stimulation). When not in use, the layers are inactive and lie flat together, making the mons unobtrusive and relatively damage-resistant. When in use, an insulating fluid (ie. mineral oil) is pumped in between the layers, making the mons swell up and maintaining the gap between the layers until pressure is applied.
> 
> FAKE SCIENCE /two thumbs up
> 
> Also: Feel free to suggest tags because I'm really bad at tagging porn...


	3. Savour

“You're so damn _gorgeous_ ,” Cayde says. He sounds almost surprised. Pleasantly surprised. As if Zavala is some lost treasure he'd liberated from the Wilds, rather than someone he sees every day.

Zavala's face is already flushed with exertion and arousal, otherwise the compliment would have him blushing fiercely. His lips are parted, but he has nothing to say in return. Instead only soft wordless noises escape, little gasps and moans that make Cayde's Light flare appreciatively. 

“I could watch you all night,” Cayde says, almost moaning himself. 

Cayde has a way of looking at Zavala that sets him aflame. There's a hunger to it, a sheer intensity, that he's never had directed towards him before. Desiring glances and appreciative looks, certainly. But nothing like the fierce burn in Cayde's eyes. As if for the moment Zavala the only thing in the universe that matters. As if Cayde will wither without him like a flower withers without the sun.

Even with his eyes closed, Zavala can still feel Cayde's regard. It's almost a physical caress. It lingers on his lips before sliding down his throat. Strokes across his heaving chest, pauses to watch the flex of Zavala's abs as his hips roll. Drags slowly over his cock, swollen and heavy where it rests against his stomach. Then finally settles between Zavala's thighs, watching as he pumps slick fingers into himself. 

“Perfect,” Cayde says, voice husky and edged with static. One of his hands settles on Zavala's thigh, spreading him a little wider to get a better view. His other hand is tangled with one of Zavala's, keeping him from succumbing to the temptation to curl it around his length and stroke himself to completion. “Hey, you think you could come from just this?”

Zavala's eyes flicker open and he tilts his head to the right to get a good look at the man kneeling next to him. He doesn't get to see Cayde stripped bare as often as he likes, but today he's a feast for Zavala's eyes, all hard metal planes and dark mesh and soft silicone.

He can't help his gaze from darting down to the finely molded phallus Cayde is sporting that night. Sleek and black, it hardly resembles a human cock, but it's ribbed and curved in a way that has Zavala licking his lips. The silky silicone still gleams with moisture from his earlier examination of it, with lips and tongue. 

When he finally looks up at Cayde's face, the Exo's eyes shift to meet his. The ferocious desire in that gaze is enough to make Zavala's breath hitch and his cock twitch. Could he come from just fingering himself while Cayde watched? 

“Yes,” he says, voice rough. 

Cayde's desire flares brighter, and Zavala has to close his eyes before the heat of it scorches him to the core.

“Would you still want to go?” Cayde asks, his thumb smoothing over Zavala's palm. “If you finish, can we keep going?”

“ _Yes_ ,” he says again. He's off-duty tomorrow and Cayde hardly sleeps. “We go all night.”

“Hot damn,” Cayde says, pleasure making his voice thick. “Then how's about you give me a show, Big Blue?”

Zavala gives a soft huff. Exhibitionism has never been one of his typical turn ons, preferring the raw physicality of body moving against body. But then, he's never had an audience quite so captivated by him as Cayde. So he presses his heels harder into the mattress, cants his hips up, and thrusts his fingers deeper. 

The heat builds slowly, deep in his belly, stoked higher with each stroke of his fingers. He feels the warmth of the sun against his side as Cayde radiates Light. The Exo's hand grips his tight, twining and tangling their fingers with restless energy, their Light intermingling where their fingers touch, soft pulses that ebb and flow like a tide. 

“Cayde,” Zavala groans. His breathing grows faster the closer he gets to release, the thrust of his fingers more and more desperate. His moans rise in volume, brief explosions of sound between gasps of breaths. His eyelashes flutter, a sliver of glowing blue peeking through them. 

“ _Zavala_ ,” Cayde answers, locking eyes with his lover. His voice echoes the emotion that blazes in his gaze. The same hunger, the adoration, the bottomless well of desire.

_I'm the luckiest man in the universe_ , Cayde had mumbled against his lips once. _How'd I ever do without you?_

Zavala's fingers push deep, curl, and he's _there_. His hips lift off the bed, his legs tremble, and the heat building in him releases. With a gasp of relief, he comes in thick spurts, painting streaks across his clenched abs. Suddenly, Cayde's hand is on him, fingers curling around Zavala's cock to stroke every last drop of come out of him.

As Zavala recovers from his climax with heavy shudders and deep breaths, Cayde leans in to press a hard kiss against his lips. Another kiss is delivered to his flushed cheek, and Cayde mumbles a soft stream of praise against his skin. Zavala's hands find the Hunter's head and draw him back to his lips. 

It's a good kiss, sweet and deep and slow. Drunk the texture and taste of Cayde’s mouth, Zavala loses track of time, unsure if they remain that way for seconds or hours. In one moment he feels a soft cloth drag over his flagging erection and splattered belly, and he sighs against his lover's lips as Cayde wipes him clean. 

After a too-short eternity, Cayde pulls away. “Hey,” he says, voice hushed. “On your side, gorgeous.”

With the help of Cayde's restless hands, Zavala obliges, rolling to face away from the Exo. Cayde fits himself against Zavala's back almost immediately, Solar Light warming him from his shoulder blades to his rear. Cayde's synthetic cock rests at the cleft of his ass. 

“You still want it?” Cayde asks, nuzzling the back of Zavala's head. 

The Titan grinds back against him. “Yes. Please.”

“That's what I like to hear.” Cayde pushes up onto one elbow as he reaches down to take himself in hand. He guides his cock deeper between the swells of Zavala's ass. Still slick from the fingering, the tapered head of Cayde's length slides in easily. 

“Uh!” Zavala's fingers clench in the sheets. Traveler’s Light, it's been far too long since he was fucked by something other than his own fingers. Suddenly impatient, he presses back against Cayde only to be stopped by a firm hand on his hip. 

“Hey, none of that,” Cayde chides. “I'm trying to savour this.”

Zavala gives a disbelieving huff. “Since when have you done anything slow?”

“Well,” Cayde says, hand moving from Zavala's hip to cup one muscular thigh and lift it. “Some things just deserve to be done right. With care and attention.”

The Exo thrusts, and Zavala cries out as his cock slides deeper. He can feel each rib of silicone as it passes into him. 

“Like you, for example,” Cayde finishes. Pulling out slightly, he gives a few experimental rolls of his hips. “How's that feel?”

“Amazing,” Zavala says. He’s missed this feeling of fullness and intimacy. He rocks back against Cayde, slowly this time, taking Cayde's words to heart and savouring the way that curved cock presses into him. 

“Good,” Cayde says, settling back on the mattress with his head pillowed on his arm. Shifting his hand to the space just above Zavala's semi-hard length, he pushes on his belly until his lover's ass is flush against him and he's as deep as he can get. Zavala settles a hand over his. “Got some wiggle room with the internal pressure, so let me know if it's too much. Or not enough.”

“It's fine.” More than fine.

Cayde hums and takes a gentle nip at the back of Zavala's neck. The Light he radiates against Zavala is hot with arousal, but far more calm and soothing than the inferno he's used to from the Hunter. It's a strangely serene mood for one of their couplings, but not one Zavala can complain about. Especially not when Cayde begins to move, fucking him sweet and slow. 

It's easy to fall into a rhythm, the two of them moving against each other with perfect timing. Where Cayde's chest fits against his back, their Light gathers. Solar Light bleeds slowly into Zavala, warming him from the inside out, and his own Arc energy diffuses into Cayde. They intermingle, blend, Light within Light, until they feel more like a single whole than separate bodies. Two minds, but everything they feel hopelessly entangled. It's impossibly intimate, and for a moment Zavala thinks he should stop, pull back… but it feels so _right_ and pure, that he can't bear to let go. 

He's hard again. There's a hand on his cock, stroking him with the same rhythm that moves their bodies. Zavala isn't quite sure if it's his hand or Cayde's. Perhaps both.

Twisting at the waist, Zavala gropes for Cayde's head, straining his neck until he can meet the Exo in a kiss. The movement of soft lips against metal falls into the rhythm as well.  
The build of heat between them is so gradual that Zavala doesn't notice their climax approaching until he's already at the edge. A hitch of static from Cayde is the only warning they get before they tumble into orgasm together.

Even this is strangely gentle, ecstasy washing over in them in slow waves, and they shudder against each other in sync. Finally, each wave that comes is softer, until they're left with quiet bliss buzzing through them, sharing pleasure and Light. 

They remain joined like that for a long time, as Zavala's breathing slows and Cayde's fans step down, just enjoying the simple pleasure of being together. Then, bit by bit, their Light pulls apart, each slipping back into its proper body until a whole becomes parts, one becomes two. Separate but still close, their Light still mingling at the edges. 

Zavala opens his eyes to find Cayde staring back at him, their faces close enough to touch with little effort. The hunger is gone from those brilliant lights, replaced by contentment and awe. 

“Wow,” Cayde says, sounding thoroughly out of breath for someone who can't breathe. 

“Wow,” Zavala repeats, lips twitching into a smile before he places a kiss on Cayde's mouth plates.

He would stay just like this if he could, until dawn light began to filter through his windows and Cayde was called to duty. Unfortunately, his neck and back disagree, and with a sigh he straightens out, turning his back to Cayde. 

Moving slowly, he pulls away, Cayde's cock sliding from him. The Exo watches curiously as Zavala rolls onto his hands and knees before shifting over to straddle metal hips. Unaffected by orgasm, the silicone cock still stands proudly. Zavala eyes it consideringly before lifting his gaze to meet Cayde's once more. 

“Cayde,” Zavala says.

“Yeah?” There's a slight squeak to Cayde's voice, and Zavala is certain that for once it's his hungry eyes setting his lover ablaze. 

“I am going to ride you,” he says, each word deliberate and backed with heat. “I am going to keep riding you until my legs give out or you beg me to stop.”

“That-” A hitch of static. “That sounds like a plan. Good plan.”

Using Cayde's chest as leverage, Zavala lifts his hips and sinks smoothly onto his cock. He rests there a moment, then, with a firm roll of his hips, he picks up the rhythm anew.

Cayde watches with adoring eyes and whispers, “Gorgeous.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Zavala got it bad for Cayde but doesn't know it. Cayde knows he's got it bad for Zavala but doesn't knows it's mutual. Ikora knows and has to watch this train wreck happen in slow motion.


	4. Surprise

“Okay. Put your hand in my pants.”

“ _Cayde_ -” Zavala knew this was a bad idea. There was no part of ‘follow Cayde into a narrow service corridor’ that was a good idea. Except for the part where he got to delay his inevitable one-on-one meeting with Executor Hideo for another few minutes. And possibly the part where he actually enjoys Cayde's company. Some of the time. 

“Ah, ah! Hear me out,” Cayde says, halting any further protest. Zavala can hardly see his expression in the dim light. Just the playful glow of his eyes, and brief flickers of illumination as he speaks. “I'm not asking for a quickie in an alley. Just. Put your hand in my pants and then you can go.”

“Why,” Zavala says, tone too flat to really be a question.

“It's a surprise!” Cayde says, clapping a hand on Zavala's shoulder while the other, given the telltale rustling, works to undo his fly. “For our date tonight.”

“Then couldn't it have waited until tonight?” Zavala glances over his shoulder. The light from the hallway--the very public hallway--fades into deep shadow only a meter or so before it reaches the back of the service corridor where Cayde leans. The space is narrow enough that can't turn without scraping his pauldrons against old pipes. It's fairly hidden, out of the way, and still far more exposed than Zavala appreciates.

“Nope. Can't wait,” Cayde says. He grabs one of Zavala's hands and tugs it closer to him, pausing just short of placing it on his crotch. “Too excited.”

Zavala wonders if the reflected light from Cayde's eyes is enough to show off his disapproving frown.

“Please?” Cayde says, his other hand cupping Zavala's cheek, gloved thumb tracing over one cheekbone. “I can't concentrate on my paperwork…”

How the Exo manages to imitate the expression of one of Saladin’s begging wolf cubs is a mystery to Zavala, but he feels his resolve crumbling before it. He certainly isn't procrastinating on his duty.

Zavala casts another look over his shoulder. As long as this is quick, they seem unlikely to get caught. He'll trust in Cayde's ability to disappear when he doesn't want to be found.

“Fine,” he says, and ignores the way Cayde's eyes blaze brighter.

Tugging off one of his gloves and tucking it into his sash, he lets his fingers splay over the Hunter's belly before turning them to point groundward. Slowly he slides his hand down, slipping it into the open fly. Cayde's head falls back against the wall with a soft clunk. 

Familiar silky silicone meets his touch, the same smooth material all Cayde's sexual mods seem to be made from. It's not his usual bulge though, formed close over the curve of his pelvis, less firm and more plush.

He looks up at Cayde, brow raised. “What, exactly, am I meant to feel?”

“Further back,” Cayde says, then gives a soft cough of static. “And press down a little.”

Zavala gives a skeptical hum, but obeys. Pushing the pads of his fingers into the soft silicone, he slides his fingers deeper between Cayde's thighs. His breath catches when the plane beneath his fingers curves _up,_ and he feels silicone press against the backs of his nails. 

Cayde's hands clench on Zavala's shoulders. “Mm-hm. Yep. You got it, that's- That's the spot.”

Both brows now raised high, Zavala curls his fingers and presses deeper. Silicone completely encompasses his fingers up to the second knuckle, tight but pliable. 

“It's-” Zavala quickly trails off, finding his mouth suddenly very dry.

“A hole?” Cayde says. “Sure is! Told you I could get one.”

Yes, he certainly had, but Zavala hadn't been paying attention at the time, more concerned with the bulge between Cayde's legs. Without thinking, he curls his fingers further, pushing in up to his final knuckle. The sound Cayde makes sends Zavala's temperature spiking.

“Sss-surprised, Big Blue?” Cayde asks with a hiss of accompanying static.

“Yes,” Zavala says, clearing his throat when he finds his voice rough. His fingers pump slowly, relishing in the way the silicone slides against his fingertips. So smooth, there's little friction to keep him from pushing in again, and again… The flexible walls surrounding his fingers clench.

“Hah, um, Zavala? Buddy?” Cayde says, choking back a moan. His fingers curl around the straps of Zavala's chest plate, gripping tight. “I'm gonna have to… Gonna have to take back what I said about the alley quickie if you keep that-- _ah!--_ up.”

Zavala doesn't answer, too busy making what is undoubtedly a terrible decision. Instead he lifts his free hand towards his mouth and turns his head to one side.

“Ghost,” he says as Cayde watches him with wide eyes. He holds the Exo’s gaze as he slowly bites down on the fingertip of his remaining glove. Tilting his chin up, he slides it from his hand and lets it drop to the ground. “Inform Executor Hideo that… something urgent has come up that requires my immediate attention.”

Cayde’s eyes dart down to his bare fingers, staring intently as Zavala lifts them towards his lips. He’s remarkably focused in spite of the other pair of fingers still working in and out of his tight body.

“I will be late for our meeting,” he continues to dictate. “Unless, of course, he would rather reschedule.”

If his Ghost disapproves of what exactly is requiring of Zavala's attention, she doesn't make it known. It's alright, Zavala will do enough disapproving for both of them later. But for now… He slides his fingers into his mouth, enjoying the way Cayde’s lights flicker as Zavala carefully slickens his fingers with saliva. He pulls them free with a lewd pop that’s echoed from Cayde’s speaker.

Cayde's thighs shudder as Zavala retrieves his hand from between them, his mouth gaping with arousal and anticipation. He’s gorgeous enough that Zavala is almost too reluctant to spin him to face the wall and pin him to it with his own body. 

Almost.

Kicking Cayde's feet farther apart, he drags his hips back until his codpiece presses hard against his lover's ass. Zavala wastes no time in tugging Cayde's pants further down his thighs before plunging his wet fingers back into that silicone opening.

A chorus of moans fall from Cayde's mouth as thick fingers fuck him hard. His hands scrabble against the wall for purchase, his cheek pushed flush against it. 

“Oh fuck, oh please, Zavala, yes, do it, c’mon-”

The stream of words suddenly sounds tinny and far away, and it takes a moment for Zavala to realize the Exo has reset the volume on his speaker to a lower decibel. He smirks, fingers slowing their rhythmic thrusts. Leaning in, he whispers against the side of Cayde's head, “Good boy.”

“Ah!” Cayde's Light gives a hard throb, heating Zavala from chin to groin.

“You are,” Zavala growls against his neck, even as he works his codpiece off one-handed, “The worst kind of distraction.”

“Ah, _ah_ , a terrible influence,” Cayde agrees, the lights in his throat barely flickering in time with his words.

The codpiece drops to the ground with a clang, and Cayde clenches tight around his fingers in anticipation. The light of his eyes stabilizes long enough to give Zavala a sidelong look. “You gonna punish me, Blue?”

Zavala just snorts and pulls his fingers out of Cayde with a satisfyingly wet squelch. Freeing his cock, it takes a bit more spit and a few strokes of his hand before he lines up and sheathes himself in his lover's body. 

The mod is smooth and tight around him, and he moans out loud with the realization that it's ribbed deeper in than his fingers had reached. Pulling out slightly, Cayde readily meets him when he thrusts in again.

“ _Cayde_ ,” he hisses. He curls one strong arm around his lover, holding him close, his other hand settling over where Cayde's rests against the wall, interlacing their fingers. The first few rolls of his hips are long and slow, but his pace quickly increases in strength and speed until Cayde rocks forward with every thrust. 

Cayde keeps up an endless stream of moans and curses and encouragements as Zavala drills him into the wall, his cries rising in volume until he’s forced to reset his speaker again. His Light reaches out to Zavala like tendrils of flame and his lover answers with a tempest. He has to cut off his voice completely to avoid screaming loud enough to bring the entire Tower running. 

Zavala doesn't even slow as he feels Cayde shudder in orgasm, his pace brutal as he fucks the man who is simultaneously the greatest pleasure and biggest annoyance in his life.

“Just a few hours,” he groans, working himself breathless. “You couldn't wait just a few more hours?”

There's a fritz of static as Cayde's voice comes online, and the distortion is heavy when he retorts, “H-hey, you're… you're the one who decided… to whip it ou _AH_ -!” His voice blinked out again as Zavala gave a particularly hard thrust.

It's strangely silent without Cayde's noises of pleasure. There's only the sounds of Zavala's heavy breathing and soft groans, the hum of Cayde's cooling fans, the slight _clank_ of Zavala's armor against bare metal thighs. Zavala finds he misses the usual cacophony. He'll have to make Cayde scream tonight.

Cayde's Light is throbbing with another quickly rising climax when he begins to tap frantically at the arm around his waist. “Zav. Zavuh. _Blue_. Wait, stop, I wanna, I want-”

It takes all of Zavala's willpower to still his hips, but Cayde said _stop_. He pants heavily, fogging the metal plating at the back of Cayde's neck. “What?”

“I want-” Cayde grips Zavala's wrist as if trying to anchor himself. “Wanna face you. See your face. Kiss you.”

Zavala needs a minute to simply breath and calm himself as best he can with Cayde tight around his cock before he can process the logistics of the request. Then he's pulling out with a groan that's almost a whine and helping Cayde turn with frantic hands. 

Cayde can hardly stand on his trembling legs, but he still manages get a single boot off and wrestle one leg free of his pants. It's all they need for Zavala to heave him back against the wall and pull Cayde's legs up around his waist. He tugs metal hips closer and plunges his cock back into that tight, wet space. 

There's metal against Zavala's lips, and he presses his tongue into Cayde's mouth with the same vigor he thrusts into his lover's body.

Cayde is mumbling again, voice forced into a muted whisper and further muffled by their frantic kisses. Their Light clashes between them with every hard thrust, and Zavala feels hot enough for the blood to start boiling in his veins. He can't last, but he tries to hold on just a little longer…

With a hard arch and a pop of static, Cayde orgasms again, a supernova of Light going off in his chest. Zavala slams into him, dragging Cayde's hips against him hard enough to bruise, and freezes that way, trembling on the edge. Then with a crack like lightning he comes hard. With shudder after shudder, he spills his load into Cayde's clenching body.

Foreheads pressed together, they come slowly down from their peaks. Cayde's gaze is as bright and adoring as ever when Zavala opens his eyes to meet it. There's a twinkle of amusement there too that has Zavala preemptively narrowing his eyes.

“You're just as dirty as I am,” Cayde says, laughter and static in his voice. 

Zavala draws back as if deeply offended. “I am _not_.”

“Says the guy balls deep in his coworker in a seedy alley.”

“You started it,” Zavala says. He finds himself tempted to just drop the Exo. Instead he pulls out with a pleased sigh and lets Cayde find his feet before letting him go. 

Taking a step back, Zavala plucks his glove from his sash to give himself a quick wipe before he tucks his spent cock away. He can't help but run his eyes over Cayde, taking him in as best he can in the dim light. Cape disheveled, pants hanging from the top of his one boot, come slipping from his body to streak slowly down his bare thighs. It's a sight that he's certain he'll be revisiting in good dreams soon enough. 

_You're just as dirty as I am._

Zavala will never admit to that. 

Stooping to pick up his codpiece and other glove, he almost drops them again at the sound of someone clearing their throat. The warm haze of afterglow is washed away as ice water floods his veins. 

“Oh, uh, hi Ikora.” Cayde says. Zavala hears the shuffle of a cloak, and can only hope the Hunter is using it to hide his lower half. 

Zavala doesn't have time to look. He's busy snapping his codpiece back in place and turning to face the corridor entrance. It's not much of a relief to find Ikora has her back to them, only half her silhouette visible as she leans against the hallway wall, arms crossed. He swallows heavily.

“Come out when you're decent,” she says, voice flat.

Zavala obeys, leaving Cayde to fumble with his clothing. He can't bear to look at Ikora, so he simply slides by her and stands awkwardly at her side, staring intently at the wall.

“I can explain,” he says. 

“Can you?” Ikora asks, and he can actually hear her raised eyebrow.

Zavala opens his mouth, casting about for something to say. Then a weight settles over his shoulder as Cayde slips into the space between his fellow Vanguard, an arm slung around each if them. 

He can practically feel his soul leave his body when Cayde opens his mouth and says, “Hey Ikora. Put your hand in my pants.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zavala probably wouldn't but also I don't care because it's hot.
> 
> I've run out of headcanon stuff to ramble about, but be free to toss me topics if you're interesting My Thoughts On Exos And Other Such Things.


	5. Can You Feel Me Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's straight up Ikora/Cayde/Zavala, folks.

Ikora can tell they're trying to keep quiet. Most likely they think she's already fallen asleep, and she keeps her breathing slow and steady to maintain that façade. She doesn't want to interrupt. Her fellow Vanguard deserve a moment of intimacy. 

Clothing rustles in the dark, their armor stacked neatly at the head of each bedroll in preparation for sleep. Still in easy reach should someone sound an alarm in the middle of the night. 

There's a soft thud, accompanied by an even softer hitch of static. Cayde's back being pushed to the wall, she thinks.

This loft is barely private, with only three walls and more displaced Guardians slumbering in the room below. But there's only one ladder up to them, and the old wooden building creaks and sighs enough to cover up hushed sounds of pleasure.

Cayde and Zavala hardly have any other chance to indulge in a physical reunion. In the morning there's a war against Ghaul to plan. There will be little time to rest, no time to slip away and remind each other they're still alive and together again.

Ikora grows warm at the sounds the pair make, Zavala's gasps and choked back moans, the muffled clicks and pops of Cayde's speaker as he tries to remaining muted. The noises come faster, more frantic, desperate… Then they slow and subside, far sooner than expected. Her brow furrows. 

Silence, save for Zavala's heavy breathing, gradually fading. Finally, barely audible, apologetic, “Cayde…”

“S’okay,” Cayde answers, voice tinny in the way it only is when he has his volume turned low. “You're stressed, I'm stressed, things are tense…” He trails off, hesitating. Then: “It doesn't feel right, does it? Lightless- without the Light I'm just-”

“Shh,” Zavala hushes.

Ikora’s heart aches.

“...Okay,” Cayde says. “Okay, let's just. Let's just go to bed.”

Clothing shuffles as they pull apart, stand. The boards creak beneath their feet. Then there's warmth at Ikora’s back, a much cooler body in front of her. She waits a moment before reaching out and curling an arm around Cayde's waist. He makes a soft noise, but it's not a protest and she presses closer to his unyielding back. Zavala's thick arm settles over both of them.

They're still together. They rest.

\---

When Ikora wakes, she's back to back with Zavala and Cayde is gone. The barest light of dawn shines through the small round window over her head. She listens to her Commander’s gentle snores and when she dons her full gear she's careful not to disturb him. 

She finds Cayde on the highest level of the barn, leaning with apparent casualness against a rusting support. His eyes are dim and half-lidded as he considers one of his hands, turning it this way and that in the dim light. He looks at it like it belongs to a stranger. 

Ikora says nothing as she settles next him. The dawn light softens the view through the gap in the barn wall. It hides the rough edges, the rust, the constant smoke that billows from the nearby Shard. The Farm almost looks peaceful. Safe. 

In time, Cayde chooses to speak on his own. “I never felt much like a cold, unfeeling machine until now. But here I am. Cold. Unfeeling. Guess I didn't realize how important having a fire inside was until it got extinguished. ”

With the slow, calm movements of someone trying not to spook a wary animal, Ikora takes his hand in hers. His fingers curl reflexively, gripping her tight. 

“I've been with non-Guardians before,” he says, staring forlornly at their clasped hands. “So it shouldn't be such a surprise? Just…” He trails off, watching light bloom across the Farm. She gives him time to find his words. 

“I just feel so damn numb. Like even when I'm touching Zavala, he's not really there with me.” His eyes met hers. “You both feel so… far away.”

Stepping closer, Ikora leans up and presses a chaste kiss to the hard planes of Cayde's mouth. “We're here. We're together. We're alive.”

Cayde bumps his forehead gently against hers. “Yeah, let's just hope we keep it that way.”

Resting her head on his shoulder, the pair of them silently watch the day dawn until Zavala joins them. 

\---

The Red War is over, but there's still so much to do. A new base of operations to establish, people to resettle, homes and businesses to rebuild, Red Legion encampments to root out, lost Guardians to put to rest, artifacts and personal effects to recover from the ruined Tower… 

Busy as she is, it's not a surprise that certain things slip past even her careful attention, but Ikora still scolds herself for not noticing sooner. 

Cayde is still hurting.

Of course most are still hurting in some way or another, from the loss of loved ones, an inability to feel safe even within the City, the trauma of Guardians being stripped of their Light, even if it had now returned… 

But Cayde is one of _her_ loved ones, and it pains her to know he's hurting. 

He doesn't show it, not on the outside. If anything he seems more content than ever, finally enjoying his role of Vanguard instead of feeling trapped and burdened by it. Perhaps his misadventures during the Red War had curbed his wanderlust, if only by a little. 

But Cayde has always been good at hiding his inner self beneath a smile and a joke. Ikora learned long ago that a carefree attitude doesn't mean Cayde is free of worries. And there are some signs he can't hide behind a barrier of levity.

Like the way his Light reaches out whenever she's near, little licks of flame brushing her own Light, there and gone in a second. A searching touch, as though he has to keep confirming that she's really there.

“I've noticed it as well,” Zavala says when she brings it up with him. He stands with his hands on the rail, looking out at the slowly healing City and the awakened Traveler above it. He turns his head slightly as she takes a place at his side. 

“I must admit I am… concerned,” Zavala continues. “Cayde has never been this… needy. Not even when…” The Titan trails off and clears his throat slightly. 

It takes Ikora only a moment to glance over her shoulder and confirm their relative privacy before she finishes his sentence. “Not even when he's begging for sex?”

Zavala's back goes ramrod straight and he lets out another slight cough. His Awoken pigmentation is good at hiding a blush, but Ikora always knows from the telltale reddening in the thinnest parts of his ears. It's honestly very charming, but Ikora tries to save her power to fluster for special occasions.

“...Yes,” Zavala admits after a moment, voice gruff with embarrassment. 

Ikora decides to go easy on him, and take a less blunt approach to the topic. “Have you found time to be intimate with him? Since Ghaul was defeated?”

Even the gentle approach has his ears flushing darker, patches of purple staining his cheeks. “No,” he admits. “I've only taken breaks to sleep.”

And likely only after his Ghost insisted. Ikora sighs. They've all been working themselves too hard.

“Well then,” Ikora says, giving Zavala a meaningful bump of her hip. “I guess we'll have to find a way to make time.”

\---

Time comes with the opening day of the Dawning. Or rather during the nighttime celebrations that follow.

It isn't often that Ikora joins the Vanguard men in their play. Most often she's satisfied with the the simple emotional intimacy they share between them, preferring to find her physical pleasure with those of her own gender. But there are times when emotional intimacy isn't enough, and they all need something more… visceral. 

So it is when Ikora approaches her fellow Vanguard late in the evening’s festivities. They stand side-by-side, watching the lanterns rise. She doesn't miss the way their hands touch on the railing, just the barest brush of pinkies. Would life be easier or harder for them if their relationship went public?

She slides up behind them, her hands cupping their shoulders. They're close enough together that she can lean between them and whisper to both at the same time. 

“My room. Midnight.”

Then, in a swirl of robes, she's gone. 

\---

Ikora likes to start with watching. She's not as quick to arousal as her men, so she waits and lets their passion for each other slowly warm her loins. It's decadent, really, reclining in her favorite reading chair while Zavala and Cayde put their bodies on display for her pleasure.

They recline on her bed, propped against the headboard, both facing her. Cayde shoots her looks, but the lights of his eyes keep flickering out. Zavala is far too preoccupied working his lips up Cayde's neck to pay her any mind. The Exo holds Zavala's head close, his other hand desperately clutching his own bare metal thigh. 

What lovely thighs he had, spread wide to give Ikora a perfect view of Zavala's cock buried deep inside him. And not just his cock. A pair of thick blue fingers press into Cayde as well, working him open with hard thrusts, milking sweet, unmuted moans from his wildly blinking speaker.

Ikora sighs at the sight, her own thighs sliding against each other beneath the skirt of her house coat. Even from here she could feel the intertwining Light radiating off them. It tugged invitingly at her. She would answer the pull soon. 

Cayde squirms against Zavala, back arching, trying to push his cock deeper still. Oily lubricant glistens on Zavala's length, coats his busy fingers, streaks Cayde's quivering thighs. Zavala's hips rock up to meet his lover, and with a hiss of static that's almost a sigh, Cayde blazes brighter. Warm Light licks Ikora’s skin, drawing out a soft sigh of her own.

The pleasure throbbing between her thighs doesn't keep her from noticing Zavala's control slipping, however. It's in the way the muscles of his thighs tighten, the way he can't keep his hips still. It's in the soft moans he pants against Cayde's neck. It's in erratic pulsing of his Light. Zavala is getting dangerously close to following Cayde into orgasm.

Well, they can't have that yet can they? Ikora tuts and straightens in her chair. She keeps her tone both sweet and dangerous when she speaks, a smile just curling the edges of her lips, “Zavala, you're not trying to finish without me, are you?”

The Titan freezes, leaving Cayde to whine and wriggle. Brilliant blue eyes finally lift to meet Ikora’s, looking equal parts startled, apologetic, and frustrated. Poor dear. She supposes it's hard being the only one in the room who can't have multiple orgasm.

Ikora laughs softly, in the way she knows sends shivers up her sometimes-lovers’ spine. “Cayde, would you be kind to Zavala and hold still?”

Another pair of luminous blue eyes on her now. “Nh, c’mon Ikora, I can't-?” But despite his protests he does, going still save for the periodic shivers that tremble through his body.

“Hm, perhaps I have made you wait too long, ” Ikora says, and she takes mercy on them. Besides, she's certainly aroused now, wet enough she's almost dripping.

Standing slowly, Ikora reaches for the sash holding her little black robe closed. With graceful fingers she pulls the knot loose, and lets silky fabric slide from her shoulders. She doesn't need to look to feel the rapt attention of her men. The robe falls to the floor and she steps towards the bed with the elegant power and hunger of a predator on the hunt. She pauses for a moment at the foot of the bed, letting her partners drink in the sight of her earlier preparations. 

“Hot damn,” Cayde says, voice hoarse. His gaze sweeps down her body like a caress. 

A black choker emphasizes the sleek length of her neck. A pendant hangs from it, writhing with carefully contained Void Light, drawing the eye down. The glint of metal on her breasts are delicate chains linked between the hoops that pierce each of her nipples.

Matching metal glints at her hips in the form of buckles keeping a black harness snug against the curves of her body. And jutting proudly between her thighs: a slender phallus, deep purple with swirls of amethyst.

Zavala adds an appreciative hum to Cayde's compliment, eyes fixed on her even as he presses kisses to the Exo's neck. 

Ikora doesn't hesitate further before joining her men. She settles into the space between their thighs, and leans in to press a kiss low on Cayde's belly, just above Zavala’s busy hand. She leaves behind a touch of Void and his speaker hitches. Her next kiss is higher, where the Exo's navel would be were he still human. His abdomen flexes as he arches against Light-swollen lips. Up to his chest, and Cayde begins to mumble soft praise.

“--You're so beautiful, I need you, want you both so bad, how'd I ever get so lucky--” 

Ikora takes a detour to touch her lips to Zavala's, a slender finger titling his chin up to meet her. Then her mouth is against Cayde's and she slips her tongue between parting plates, tracing a tingling line of Light across his palate. It doesn't stop him from talking, but words quickly fade into incomprehensible syllables. They transform entirely into moans when Ikora’s fingers join Zavala's inside him. 

Sliding her knuckles along Zavala's sheathed length, she pulls a moan from him as well. Taking back her tongue, she asks, “Do you think he's ready for both of us?”

Cayde twitches. “Yes, fuck, Ikora, c’mon, do it-!”

“Shhh,” Ikora says, pressing a kiss to the tip of the Exo's horn. “I'm talking to Zavala.”

His protest isn't anything more than a whine as Zavala spreads his fingers, testing the limits of slick, pliable silicone.

“He's ready,” Zavala says, voice a deep purr against Cayde's jaw. 

“Wonderful,” she says. When she pulls her fingers free of Cayde, she takes Zavala's with her. Tugging his hand up, she settles it in the center of the Exo's chest and covers it with her own. A metal hand soon joins them, squeezing gently. Cayde's other hand finds her breasts, tugging playfully at one of her piercings. Ikora’s head tilts back with a gasp. 

There's a warm hand on her rear, Zavala coaxing her hips closer. Cayde has waited long enough. Adjusting her position slightly, she presses her prosthetic cock into his waiting body. A high-pitched squeal of static is all the warning they get before Cayde comes again with a blaze of Light that leaves them all shaking.

“Cayde!” Zavala gasps, and Ikora knows he isn't going to last long. It's alright, he doesn't need to. Because she can already feel their Light twining together. 

Ikora guides them, wielding her Light with the focused precision of a master Warlock. She pushes deep into Cayde, deep into Zavala, and draws threads of Light from both of them, her Void a needle that can stitch them all together. Solar, Arc, Void, a patchwork of Light. The Vanguard made whole.

As she and Zavala alternate thrusts, driving Cayde quickly back to the edge, they only blend further. As Zavala's muscle begin to grow tight with his impending finish, they encompass Cayde's warm Light, the most intimate embrace they can give him. And as Ikora’s own passage begins to clench with their entangled pleasure, she leans in and whispers against his temple. 

“We're still here with you.”

Zavala echos her, lips moving against Cayde's jaw. “We're here.”

Cayde sobs, and in a maelstrom of mixing Light, they all come apart together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YEAH HEADCANON FACTS TIME AGAIN:  
> Exos aren't naturally particularly sensitive, and most of their sensors aren't actually wired for pleasure (but neuroplasticity means their brains often co-opt other sensations as pleasurable). Their metal plating in particular doesn't register much more than impact and damage. General horniness and experimental spirit has resulted in Exos coming up with a variety of ways to do the do beyond just genital mods.
> 
> Lightplay with an Exo Guardian basically sidesteps the whole issue by basically adding an extra sense that's generally pleasant (when not weaponized). Though Light adds a new dimension to sex for every type of Guardian, and some Guardians have trouble enjoying sex with Lightless individuals after experiencing Lightplay.
> 
> When you've been pretty much soulfucking your partner for awhile, doing without can feel weirdly distant.


End file.
